Writer Sprout

So this happened back in Feb, but better late than never.

The back story: Valentine’s Day 2004 went off with several hitches. Pea and I had just sat down to a midnight dinner (hitch) of cabbage-wrapped lamb&chicken loaf (um, hitch) when we realized the gushing sound coming from the closet was, in fact, an indication that the upstairs tenant was sharing his discarded bathwater with us. A portion of our ceiling was leaking (hitch) in that no-nonsense sort of way, it was Hallmark’s kissiest day of the year, and we were at a complete loss as to what to do. But that lasted all of a minute as our hopelessness gave way to resourcefulness. We shot a plastic trash bin under the leak and Pea dialed up Bob, our good pal and Deselm Apt Manager. Of course, this proved fruitless (hitch), and nothing less than an old-fashioned door-pounding roused B from Dreamland. But he came through, the gushing ceased, we eventually ate, and the roasted red pepper sauce was fantastic.

A year later: a chance at redemption. See, for some reason, possibly because lamb is an inadequate substitution for prosciutto, Pea felt he had something to prove. Something to make up for, you might say. And to his credit, Valentine’s 2005 went off hitch-free, thanks in large part to Pea’s innovative casseroling technique. Here’s the secret:

1 cup moldy bell peppers, chopped
1 cup yellow onion, also moldy, also chopped
2 cups uncooked white rice
1 can year-old Mr. Pibb
½ cup Hershey’s syrup, preferably rancid
¼ cup cocoa powder
3-4 Trader Joe’s chicken sausages, spoiled
4-5 whole, uncleaned squids (Pea jigged for his own off Pier 76)

Without telling your girlfriend what you’re up to in the kitchen, layer uncooked rice in the bottom of a 9x13-in baking dish and top with peppers and onion. Drizzle with Hershey’s syrup and dust with cocoa powder. Next, lay sausages across mixture, interspersing with squids. Finish with a liberal pouring of Pibb, taking care to evenly coat the rice. Bake at 350 for as long as you can hold out. At your gf’s insistence, remove from the oven and present her with a fork. Watch her expression evolve from one of curiosity (what-?) to suspicion (the squids look overcooked, and is that an eye?) to repulsion (what the eff have you done??).

Finally, let her know you were simply cleaning out the fridge in as creative a way you could dream up, hear her laugh (only you!), return her hug, then whisk her off to Carmelita for the real thing.